


like i would

by sovietghoststories (lucid_lies)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, F/M, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 17:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16877367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucid_lies/pseuds/sovietghoststories
Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for a while, but you don’t know a lot about each other. Pietro is your best friend and he calls you baby as a purely platonic thing. Bucky hears him calling you this and is confused. When it keeps happening he gets jealous and confronts you about it.





	like i would

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this is told from Bucky’s pov so, y’know, not all the situations are what they seem. He misunderstands several instances which leads to the main problem. X posted w/ tumblr.

The problem with eavesdropping is that you might hear something you’d rather you didn’t. This is something Bucky learns the hard way. It wasn’t intentional by any means. He respects you too much to spy even though the urge is there, his Soldier training suppressed but ever present.    
  
The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen getting a cup of coffee. Your squeal of surprise is quickly followed by a lighthearted giggle (a sound he works so damn hard to pull from the depths of your throat, a sound that comes easily around  **him**  - around Pietro).   
  
His fine-tuned hearing picks up the words softly murmured in that lilting Sokovian accent, “It is good to see you, Baby.”   
  
The sting of jealousy follows a sharp flash of hurt that simmers into a low-level confusion. The speed demon’s voice is warm with affection and a touch too flirtatious. It bothers Bucky immensely for reasons he’s unwilling to examine. Baby is supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you without using so many sounds, standing in for a four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin and tattoos into your heart with his lips.   
  
It’s special, intimate.   
  
The realization that he’s sharing a part of you that he thought was his and his alone curdles his gut. A part of him shrivels, heart aching in his chest when you respond in kind. The low hum in his head intensifies. He’s left with an empty longing he can’t name, doubt creeping in and poisoning his mind. 

Perhaps you regret starting a relationship with half a man or maybe it got too real too fast. He might have been a little too receptive, jumping on the first good thing to fall into his hands for the first time in forever. People need time to settle into their feelings, like a house settling old wooden bones. 

The last thing Bucky wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems. Shoving down his discomfort, he shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Pietro. You’re the best thing that's happened to him, he can’t lose you too.   
  
Silently vowing to be less intense, less attached, Bucky does his best to keep his hands to himself when all he wants to do is reach across space between your bodies and tug you into the cradle of his chest. It’s harder to hide his wince when Pietro reaches out and tugs on a lock of your hair, smirking around a purred baby.   
  
Thankfully no one notices his moment of weakness. 

* * *

Staring at his reflection, Bucky tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove and yet he’s never felt more exposed. He feels like he’s tried to shove himself into the shell of a man long dead and found his edges misshapen.   
  
It’s uncomfortable; he longs for stiff leather and heavy boots but tonight is important. It’s your anniversary. He’s had this night planned out months ago, even swallowing his pride and asking Stark for help in securing a reservation at some swanky restaurant in Times Square. You’ve been talking about it all week and your excitement is infectious. Bucky hasn’t felt this eager or nervous for a date since before the war.   
  
His mood sours as soon as he turns the corner, eyes instantly snapping to where you are on the couch. A shock of silver hair zips past Bucky’s side, a latent breeze blowing past as Pietro settles back down next to you.   
  
Loud laughter erupts from you. Your eyes crinkle in the corners, nose scrunching up.   
  
“What’s so funny?” He doesn’t mean to snap at you but the inner turmoil spills over before he can completely clamp down on it. Your eyes lose some of their softness. Your mouth is pinched tightly at the corners and a lump grows in his throat.   
  
“Pietro messed up your hair.”   
  
Bucky shoots him a frosty look but withers under your pointed glare. His shoulders sag and he runs his fingers through the tangles, trying to get it back to how it was.   
  
“Ah, do not be so grumpy Bucky.” The Sokovian swings an arm over your shoulder, pressing his cheek against yours. His eyes never leave Bucky’s, an unspoken challenge he has no hopes of decoding. “Looking like that just makes Baby all the more beautiful when she’s next to you.”  
  
Bucky swears he almost breaks his jaw with how hard he grinds his teeth. It’s no surprise that your date ends in a fight that has you fleeing to Pietro’s room where you stay for several days, refusing to look at let alone speak to Bucky.   
  
The knife in his heart digs deeper. 

* * *

The smell of soot clings to your hair and there are smudges of dirt on your cheeks, but your eyes are bright and your smile is alive. Bucky’s about to grab you up into a relieved hug (he thought he almost lost you), argument be damned, when none other than Pietro swoops in.   
  
The distance between you is larger than ever as he’s forced to watch a younger man do his job. The Sokovian’s arms grip your waist tightly, holding you like a precious gem. He brushes the hair off your forehead and Bucky reads his lips ( _I’m so glad you’re alright, Baby_ ) before they’re pressed against your cheek sweetly.   
  
His heart lurches painfully at your expression of absolute joy and affection. He’s terrified that he can already see the end. And fuck, he can’t even say he’s surprised. You know so much about him already and when he thinks about it, he doesn’t even know your favourite colour (you know his is blue).   
  
He’s the worst fucking boyfriend ever.

* * *

It’s been several weeks since the two of you have last spoken, and if he’s being honest, it’s getting to him. Everywhere he turns, Bucky’s forced to watch you and Pietro laugh and have a grand old time together. The other man has been getting under his skin, giving him sly glances and holding you that much closer whenever he enters the room.   
  
You’re oblivious to the jealousy growing like a weed in Bucky’s heart. Every day it gets worse, a pressure crushing his chest and a bottomless pit in his stomach. He doesn’t know whether the two of you are still together or not but he fears the uncertainty is going to drive him mad.   
  
There are reminders of your absence everywhere and he quickly reaches the point of no return. There is no going back when he searches you out. You’re squirrelled away in Pietro’s apartment and when you invite him inside, you’re stony-faced and silent.   
  
Bucky can’t handle the silence for long. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he avoids your eyes and glances around. It’s cleaner than he expected.   
  
“Y/N, what are we doing?”  
  
Your eyebrow shoots up. “I’m not sure what you mean, Bucky.”   
  
“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plead for what it is. “I can’t do this anymore. I need to know.”   
  
Eyes flashing with confusion, you step closer to him, shoulders relaxing.   
  
“Bucky, what are you talking about?”   
  
His intentions were pure, honest. But the months worth of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact that he resents you at all bubbles to the surface and he explodes.   
  
“I’m talking about you and fucking Maximoff!”   
  
“Me?” You blink owlishly. “And Pietro?”   
  
The smile that cuts across his face is sharp and unpleasant. “Yeah, you and Pietro. Were you just gonna keep fucking around with him behind my back?”  
  
“Hey now, wait a minute. What the hell are –”   
  
“Don’t even try to deny it.” His eyes are shards of ice, and he knows he’s slipping. He can feel the Soldier pressing in at the corners of his mind, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you enjoy watching me make an ass of myself?”  
  
“You’re doing that all on your own, Barnes,” you sneer, heart thumping in your ears and rage burning bright in your chest. “I think you need to leave.”   
  
“No, come on, I want to know.” He stalks closer, the smooth glide of his body reminiscent of a large jungle cat. He’s pure predator in that moment and it has an uncomfortable thrill cutting through your anger. “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name? Who’s cock is your cunt hungry for?” 

Your hand connects with Bucky’s face before you register everything he’s said. You hiss as your hand throbs but the bright red mark staining his cheek has a spark of dark satisfaction curling low in your belly. It serves him right.   
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig.” Shoving at his shoulder, you nod towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”   
  
Strong fingers clamp around your wrist and squeeze hard. Bucky tugs you into his chest and curls his free arm around your waist, trapping you against his front.   
  
“Let go–”

“Shut. up.”  
  
The words die on your tongue. You take in his expression for the first time, blank except for his eyes. They are cold and dark, hooking into you and refusing to let go. The heat of his body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over you.   
  
Shivering, you try to tug your arm free only to whine softly as his metal fingers tighten.  
  
“I’m not letting you go.”   
  
You whimper. “Bucky, please, you’re starting to scare me.”  
  
The super soldier doesn’t respond.   
  
Dipping his head, he inhales the scent of your hair and drags the tip of his nose down the length of your neck. The familiar perfume soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest. A rumble of satisfaction vibrates his chest and your nipples harden embarrassingly quickly, a weak pulse of desire teasing your core.  
  
It’s been too long since you’ve been this close to your boyfriend. You’ve lost your immunity to his proximity.   
  
He sighs, “You always smell so good, Doll.”  
  
Sucking your teeth, you give in and rest against him before trying to get him to release you once more. You call him softly and he hums in response. “Can you let me go now? I promise I won’t go anywhere.”   
  
He pulls back and looks at you for several seconds. His fingers unlatch only to tenderly curl around your throat. A thick thigh pushes its way between your thighs, his kneecap nudging your cunt.   
  
Gasping, you sag against him completely, hands flying up to plant themselves on his biceps.   
  
“B-Bucky!”  
  
“Mm, that’s it.” He rolls his thigh, grip on your neck tightening slightly. “Let me hear you, pretty girl.”   
  
You shake your head, unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is as slick begins to seep into the fabric of your panties. You really regret wearing a dress right now, giving Bucky unimpeded access. “We can’t, Pietro’s home.”   
  
It was a mistake to mention the other man. Bucky’s frame tenses, grinding against you harshly. The bulge of his cock is unforgiving against your hip and the sharp ridge of his kneecap catches on your clit.   
  
A hand clamps over your mouth before the wail escapes. Your eyes crack open, blurred with tears. Your hips jerk, body oversensitive as pleasure sizzles through your blood. Your cunt throbs.   
  
“Quiet, we don’t want  _Pietro_  to hear now do we?” He practically snarls. “What would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for my cock?”   
  
Your indignant response is cut off with another muffled whine, teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw. Bucky’s tongue swipes through the layer of sweat clinging to your skin, his breath puffing warm and moist over your ear.   
  
Voice whiskey rough, he purrs, “I don’t give a fuck what you or that douchebag think, you’re  **mine**  Y/N.”  
  
His eyes glitter deviously. “And I’m not in the habit of sharing.”   
  
The hand on your throat relocates to your hips, snapping the band of your panties and tossing them over a broad shoulder. The cold air caresses your soaked folds and heat settles into the apples of your cheeks. There’s no denying how turned on you are. It’s fucked up and it doesn’t make sense but seeing Bucky so dominant and forward when he’s usually respectful, reserved gets you going like nothing else.   
  
The bite of his metal fingers against your throbbing heat has a low hiss echoing out in the otherwise silent apartment. Bucky smirks and without any warning, slides into the knuckle. You burrow your face into his shoulder, nails digging into his arms as your walls catch and flutter around the thick digit working its way into you.   
  
The sloppy, slick sound of your cunt rings in your ears.   
  
“Fuck, look how well you’re taking me, Baby.” He nips at your bottom lip, reclaiming a word that should have always been only his, and thrusts shallowly to open you up for a second. “I can hear how sloppy your cunt is. He can’t make you feel the way I do.”   
  
You mumble something behind his palm, not entirely sure it was even English, eyes rolling back into your head and hips twitching. You want to bear down on his fingers as hard as you can, but you know it wouldn’t end well for you if you did.   
  
“You’re such a good girl.” A second finger quickly joins the first and then you’re well and truly gone for it. His wrist stays still as he quickly works to bring you to the edge, fingers curling against a spot that has your toes curling. “Yeah, that’s it. I wanna see you cum on my fingers.”  
  
The hand around your mouth curls around your jaw, tugging up your chin.  
  
“Look at me.” He demands. “Open those pretty eyes.”   
  
It’s a struggle to comply but you eventually manage to crack open your eyes. The heat is steadily building, more and more slick dripping down your thighs as Bucky finger fucks you hard. You’re panting and weak-kneed.   
  
“Tell me who you belong to.” His eyes are hard and unforgiving, a cold fire burning in their depths. You feel him throb, his hips trembling with restraint. “Tell me.”   
  
“Y-You, I belong to you Bucky,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”  
  
You’re not sure what you’re begging for but you know he’s the only one that can give it to you.   
  
He captures you with his gaze, thumb hooking into the corner of your mouth. Your tongue flickers out to tease the pad, the taste of his skin bursting sharp and bright.   
  
Fingers slamming home unyielding and deep, Bucky hisses, “Cum.”   
  
Mouth dropping open, you flutter and throb. The tension in your belly pops, pussy gushing wetly. Muscle spasms have you shaking in his arms. Everything sounds and feels far away, cotton soft and cloudy.   
  
It’s as you’re floating back down that you realize how loud you must have been. There’s a satisfied curl to Bucky’s lips and he’s staring at something behind you. He puffs out his chest, shoulders filling out as he straightens up with you in his arms.    
  
A gust of air and a  _it’s_ _about time you two idiots made up._  
  
“She’s mine, and I’m not in the habit of sharing.” 


End file.
